Houselights go down and all I see is him
overly bright in the spotlight
greeting his audience
then taking a position behind the long table
one by one plates begin to spin
delicately balanced atop slender poles
first five, then ten
fifteen, twenty
when the last is spinning
he rushes back to the first
begins it all again
we’re every one caught up in the feverish whirling
marveling at the sustained motion
wondering how long he can keep them all spinning
at the same time
And in the dark it hits me
I’m reeling
dizzied by that same fever of spinning my own balancing act
scared to let any of my plates fall
where everyone can see
rushing madly to add another and another
to keep them all in rotation
when what I need most is
fewer plates.
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2 comments:
very nice! i was missing your poetry lately. i don't know if it's been a while since you've posted it or if i'm just not keeping on top of the blog scene- but thanks! i'm feeling like a few less plates would do us all good!
Thanks, Lyd. I was actually thinking of something you said on your blog (about why you needed to stop blogging) when I was formulating the idea for this. So that makes you my muse!
And no, I haven't written any poetry for a while (too many plates spinning), so I figured it was about time.
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